


Of Umbrellas and Madmen

by SammyLuka



Series: The Strange and Overtly Romantic Tales of Johnlock and Mystrade [3]
Category: Kingsman (Movies), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crossover, M/M, Past Harry/Mycroft, Why do British men in bespoke suits love umbrellas and bits of rough so much?, lots of snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-12 00:28:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12947379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SammyLuka/pseuds/SammyLuka
Summary: "'Mycroft, Merlin, and I were all picked from the same batch of recruits. It was the most agents ever made from one litter,' Harry explained, and he and Mycroft exchanged a knowing smile.'Mycroft?' Eggsy blurted after a moment of silence. 'Your parents must really hate you.''It’s a family name,' Mycroft explained, smiling. 'And it’s not the worst, I assure you. My brother is called Sherlock.'"





	1. Chapter 1

Mycroft truly didn't think he'd live to see the day that Chester King would die. He knew that something would eventually have to happen to the old man, but he could never actually picture King meeting his (quite timely) demise. Mycroft could’ve said the same thing about Harry Hart. Rebellious, back-talking, risk-taking, sex-on-legs Harry Hart who Mycroft thought would outlive him and then some.

The news of Harry’s death had surprised Mycroft even more than the news of the agent being alive. What had surprised Mycroft the most, though, was the news of Harry being romantically entangled. 

Waking into the office that formerly belonged to Chester King, Mycroft couldn't help his stomach lurching. It was too familiar. Although he hadn't stepped foot on Kingsman grounds in a generous number of years, memories came flooding back to him. Memories of a young Agent Galahad with fluffy hair and a sparkling grin that won him most honeypot missions. Memories of field work that left adrenaline buzzing through his veins, keeping him going day after day. Memories of training and and puppies and deliciously reckless mischief. 

“Mycroft,” Harry greeted, standing up from his desk. He smoothed the front of his jacket down, providing Mycroft with a microscopic smile. 

“Harry,” Mycroft returned. He cocked an eyebrow and gestured his hand in a sweeping motion. Harry sat back down, crossing his legs and leaning back. 

“I see you haven't changed much,” Mycroft commented idly, inspecting a bookshelf in the corner of the room. Harry slowly removed his glasses from his face and set them on the desk. 

“I assume you're here to officiate my taking the throne?” Harry watched Mycroft carefully. Mycroft turned to face Harry once again, hands clasping his umbrella behind his back and a suspiciously innocent look softening his features. 

“Ah, yes. That. I must say, congratulations are in order.” Mycroft shifted so that the umbrella was beside him. “I always knew you would make your way to the top.”

At that, Harry chuckled. 

“Thank you. And I must commend you on your recent work in Spain. Very… efficient.”

“Speaking of efficiency,” Mycroft started, “I believe we should get this paperwork over with.” He punctuated his statement by moving forward and gracefully dropping a folder on Harry's desk, careful not to disturb the pre-existing piles of papers. 

Harry leaned forward and took the folder, opening it and flipping through the various forms and reports. He sighed heavily. More bloody paperwork. It never seemed to end. He grabbed a pen and began to skim over the top page. 

“I'm glad to hear that you've made way in-” Mycroft cleared this throat, a smirk playing at his lips “-settling in the new agents. Or agent, shall I say.” 

Harry looked up from the paperwork with narrowed eyes. There was no use in beating around the bush. 

“Don't be bitter because I’ve a boy and you don't, Mr. Holmes,” he sassed. Mycroft straightened and his grip on the umbrella he was leaning on tightened. 

“You're most certainly right in the respect that I don’t have a boy. I have found myself a _man_ , though.” Mycroft’s pressed his lips into a thin line and huffed a breath out through his nose. Harry raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, hush, Mycroft. He’s very much an adult, and if you saw him you’d-”

 _Speak of the devil_ , Harry thought as he watched Eggsy stroll through the (open, thanks Mycroft) doorway to his office, a grin pulling at his lips. Mycroft turned where he was standing to face Eggsy, cocking an eyebrow as he got a good look at the boy. Eggsy’s grin faltered as he took in the sight of the sharp man, and he turned to Harry. 

“Am I interruptin’ somethin’?” Eggsy asked carefully, taking a step back towards the doorway. Harry stood from his desk and walked around it until he was practically standing on Eggsy’s heels. 

“Not at all. Galahad, this is Agent Excalibur.” Harry faced Mycroft with a carefully crafted smile and Eggsy’s eyes widened. 

Mycroft took a step forward and extended his hand. “Delighted,” he stated simply. Eggsy, out of habit, took Mycroft’s hand it shook it. 

“Uh, yeah. Pleasure’s mine, bruv.” Eggsy took a step back and ended up backing into Harry, who placed his hand on the small of Eggsy’s back. Tension visibly dissipated from Eggsy’s shoulders.

Mycroft let out an amused little scoff. “You can drop the formalities. I’m an old friend of the agency’s.” Harry huffed a laugh from behind Eggsy.

“Mycroft, Merlin, and I were all picked from the same batch of recruits. It was the most agents ever made from one litter,” Harry explained, and he and Mycroft exchanged a knowing smile. 

“ _Mycroft_?” Eggsy blurted after a moment of silence. “Your parents must really hate you.”

“It’s a family name,” Mycroft explained, smiling. “And it’s not the worst, I assure you. My brother is called Sherlock.” Eggsy laughed at that, but it was cut short as realization dawned on his features.

“Wait, Sherlock, as in the detective bloke?” 

Mycroft chuckled. “Yes, that would be him.” 

“Eggsy’s quite a fan of Doctor Watson’s blog,” Harry chimed in.

“Oh, as am I,” Mycroft conceded, and there was mischief glinting in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something else, but was cut off as his phone began to ring in his pocket. He pulled it out, checked the caller ID, and politely excused himself to walk across the room and answer the call. Eggsy turned to face Harry, who wrapped his arms around Eggsy’s waist.

“He ain’t your type at all,” Eggsy teased, his voice quiet. He reached up and snaked his arms under Harry’s, gripping Harry’s shoulders from behind. Harry sighed. Of course his boy would pick up on it.

“But he _is_ yours,” Harry quipped.

“Don’t try to avoid it, Haz,” Eggsy scolded, but his voice was still light. Harry sighed resignedly through his nose.

“It was twenty years ago and I was quite a different man then, as was he. We were together, then we weren’t. Now we have a rather agreeable working relationship. Nothing to worry about.”

“Oh, I ain’t got nothin’ to worry about. He’s obviously got someone else now,” Eggsy said with a smirk

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Is that right?”

“Did you see his face when he checked who was callin’ him?” Eggsy looked over his shoulder to see Mycroft rubbing his hand over his face, his cheeks pink. Harry just laughed.

“I guess you’re right. You could rival a Holmes, darling.” Harry pressed a gentle kiss to Eggsy’s hairline, then turned his attention back to Mycroft just as he was returning his phone to his pocket. 

“My apologies. I must be on my way, but we should continue this another day.” Mycroft fixed his grip on his umbrella and walked forward to shake Eggsy’s hand once again. “I sincerely hope to see you again, hopefully in a more casual setting.” Once he’d let go of Eggsy’s hand, he turned to look at Harry. “And you, you better have that paperwork done in a timely fashion or you shall be dealing with Anthea’s wrath.”

“I learned my lesson the last time, I assure you.” Harry smiled fondly and placed a hand on Mycroft’s shoulder. “I shall see you soon, then.”

With that, Mycroft nodded and walked from the room without so much as a look over his shoulder. 

“Odd bloke,” Eggsy commented as he made his way to an armchair across from Harry’s desk. He fell into it, smiling up at Harry. The older man hummed in agreement. They fell into a few moments of comfortable silence before Eggsy opened his mouth again.

“So,” he started, grinning like a proper Cheshire Cat, “which one of you topped?”

Harry simply gave him a look before he turned back to his paperwork.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you tell that im super american lmao
> 
> (come visit me on my [tumblr](https://babyboyeggsy.tumblr.com/)!)


	2. Chapter 2

**A few months later...**

“If you make a single egg pun, I’m having you murdered,” Mycroft hissed, watching as his driver pulled up to the pavement outside the quaint café that was their destination. 

“What the hell kind of name is _Eggsy_ , though?” Greg wheezed, grasping at his stomach from the force of his laughter.

“Gregory, I swear, you should be accustomed to odd names, seeing as you’re involved with me.” The look of pure exasperation on Mycroft’s face only served to make Greg laugh harder.

\---

They walked into the building and were greeted by a young woman who led them to the dining room without a word. They walked to a table towards the back of the room where two men were already sat. Harry smiled politely and nodded a thank you to the woman as Greg and Mycroft approached and situated themselves. Harry moved to his feet and Eggsy followed suit a few moments afterwards, a look of discomfort painting his face.

“It's a pleasure to meet you.” Harry spoke softly as he shook Greg’s hand. 

“Pleasure’s mine,” Greg returned. “I’d love to say that I've heard nothing but good about you lot, but that'd be a lie.” His grin was charming and warm. Harry was impressed. Greg was attractive, bright from what Harry could tell, respectable, and obviously made Mycroft happy. He made Mycroft human. 

Greg, Harry, and Mycroft turned their attention to Eggsy as Greg and Harry separated. The boy still looked vaguely uncomfortable and it took a few moments for him to realize what came next. 

“Shit, sorry, got- uh, lost in my head for a sec’. Eggsy, good to meet you.” He awkwardly stuck his hand out and Greg shook it, giving him a suspiciously amused look. They separated and all sat down, with Eggsy looking a bit more comfortable this time. 

And then Greg went and ruined it. 

“Shit, wait, didn't I arrest you a few years back?” he blurted, his attention turned towards Eggsy. Surprisingly, a smirk was playing at his lips. Mycroft spluttered on his drink and kicked at Greg under the table. 

Eggsy went red. “Dunno what you're talkin’ about.” 

“Oh my god, you’re the one who I caught spraying a prick on that little bodega, aren't you?” 

“ _Gregory_ ,” Mycroft intervened, and Eggsy didn't think he'd ever be as grateful to hear that prissy voice as he was then. The younger’s cheeks were pink and he looked to Harry for assistance, only to find the man wearing a satisfied smirk.

“I believe you’ve found yourself a keeper, Mycroft," Harry commented, side-eyeing Eggsy.

Mycroft smiled fondly at Greg. “I believe you’re right."


End file.
